


Nowhere Man

by keptinslog



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Bullying, FTM Jim, FTM Spock, Gender Dysphoria, I think that's about it?, M/M, Mentions of Smut, Starfleet Academy, Suicide Attempt, Trans Male Character, Transphobia, let me know if I forgot to tag anything, sorry for ooc Spock I know he's too emotional in this, spirk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-25
Updated: 2017-01-25
Packaged: 2018-09-20 00:13:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9466892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keptinslog/pseuds/keptinslog
Summary: For as long Spock could remember, he had never been content with himself.  There was always something wrong.  When he was still very little and could not fully grasp the concept of self control, he proclaimed it without shame.  On every occasion he had, he told his parents, very simply, "I am a male."It wasn't until Spock's peers started to take notice that it fully sank in that something was deeply wrong.





	1. Childhood

**Author's Note:**

> The title was inspired by The Beatles' song of the same title.

      The first time Spock tried to kill himself he had barely entered adolescence.  
      For as long as the Vulcan could remember, he had never been content with himself. There was always something wrong. When he was still very little and could not fully grasp the concept of self control, he proclaimed it without shame. On every occasion he had, he told his parents, very simply, "I am a male." Amanda, knowledgable of the earth definition of Spock's condition, was careful not to be too harsh to her child. She played along while alone with him, but never in front of the other Vulcans. Sarek, on the other hand, would sit Spock down for lengthy conversations about logic and biology. In his youth, Spock found these particular conversations quite tedious.  
      It wasn't until Spock's peers started to take notice that it fully sank in that something was deeply wrong.  
      The young Vulcan choked back a sharp cry as he fell to the dusty ground, skinning his palms on the rough surface. A small crowd of adolescent females were hovering over him, watching the boy wince as he attempted to hold back tears.  
      "Pathetic," one of the girl's voices cut through the quiet. "Observe how T'luk cries. Not only is she confused and illogical, she is unable to control her human emotions. How deplorable." The surrounding girls nodded in approval of their leader's remarks.  
      "Do not call me that," Spock hissed, not daring to glance up and risk meeting any of their vicious gazes. He noticed that virescent blood had been smeared across the rock where his palms had hit. "My name is Spock. I am a boy." He had chosen the name because his mother had once admitted to him after relentless pestering that it was the name she would have given him had he been born a boy.  
      A different female stepped forward, taking charge. "How is it that you still do not understand? You are female, like us. It is extremely recalcitrant to simply choose a name for yourself."  
      "She must be suffering from some anomalous human defect," one female from the back of the crowd chimed in. Murmurs of agreement soon followed.  
      At that, Spock stood and bolted in the opposite direction, not wishing to look back. He finally stopped when he reached the edge of a jagged outcrop. The red stone beneath his feet felt dangerously unstable. Tears were now streaming freely down his cheeks. There were no bullies here to verbally and physically abuse him, so he held no emotion back.  
      The girls from the group were right. Spock's entire existence was illogical, everything about it. He was female; that's what biology told him, that's what his father had taught him. His warped self-image was due to his human imperfections. He couldn't possibly go on like this, with this terrible weight on his shoulders.  
Spock stood like that for what seemed like eons, peering down into the deep rufous canyon just inches away from the tips of his toes. The cavernous depths taunted him, inviting Spock to make the most logical decision and end his erroneous being.  
But he couldn't do it.  
      He walked home that day through the blistering sand, taking an unfamiliar and dangerous alternative route to avoid his tormentors. When he finally reached home, Amanda immediately took the young boy into her arms and held him tightly. Spock gripped onto his mother's clothes, leaking blood from the wounds on his palms and staining the fabric olive green.  
      Amanda then released her child and began to bandage his hands. As she did, she reminded him tenderly, "Never listen to what those bullies may say to you. There is not a single thing wrong with you. Taluhk nash-veh k’dular."


	2. Adolescence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Spock gets older, his feelings of discomfort only worsen.

      As Spock plummeted deeper into adolescence, he was able to develop a firmer grasp on his emotions. His tormentors matured as well; no longer did they beat him or spit insults at his face, but that did not stop them from socially isolating him. Spock grew to not care much at all, though. He was focusing on his studies, and there was little time to focus on much else, including his peers.  
Spock's mother had long caught on at this stage in his life, and would now address him as "Spock", and nothing else. She tried her best to keep this composure around his father, but it was hard when the Vulcan refused to see through his thick haze of logic. But Spock didn't let his father's disapproval get under his skin. He sympathized with his father's logic, it made far more sense than his own. Sarek watched disapprovingly, yet without a word, as Spock became more and more his true self over the years as he slowly reached the threshold between childhood and adulthood. Of course, the Earth methods of this process were not available on Vulcan, but Spock presented himself how he wished to be seen, and there were few complaints. And he was content, for a while.  
      But all of Spock's introspection lead to much deeper troubles, troubles that were always with him no matter how hard he tried to suppress them.  
In the privacy of his room, Spock glared at the mirror hanging on the wall before him. It was a daily routine of his, which would usually either end in deep unavoidable thoughts and self-loathing, or an embarrassing emotional outbreak of some sort. He didn't know why he insisted on examining himself like this every single day. Maybe it was some form of a strange, morbid fascination. Or perhaps it was almost a kind of exposure therapy; as if the more he stared at his own body, the less he would hate it. But, of course, it never really ended up granting Spock with any sort of satisfactory results.  
      As Spock carefully observed the gentle curve of his hips and bosom, he was greeted with a familiar boiling feeling rising up in his abdomen. He grit his teeth and forced himself to continue staring. He furrowed his brow and tried to picture a different body in place of the one he was seeing before him. His brain was flooded with illogical delusions, but he couldn't help but succumb to them as he was faced with his repulsive physique. When he yet again realized that he would never be able to achieve these foolish dreams of his, the boiling in his heart grew stronger. The corners of his eyes began to sting and his vision blurred.  
      Spock choked back a cry and lunged forward, smashing the mirror with his bare fist. Thick shards of glass scattered the floor surrounding him as he sunk to the ground and hugged his knees against his chest. Spock knew his father would have heard the crash, and dreaded having to face him and explain this irrational outburst.  
      In yet another sudden rush of emotion, Spock fumbled for a shard of glass. He finally found a long, thin fragment and clutched it cautiously in his fist. His hand was trembling as he brought the glass to his forearm, sucking in a sharp breath before he pressed the point of the shard to his porcelain skin; dragging it down vertically across the pale underside of his arm. Spock's mind was buzzing. Logically, he knew that a vertical slice would yield the best results to ultimately help him achieve his goal. He couldn't stand existing like this anymore. He couldn't stand being a constant disappointment, to himself and everyone he crossed paths with. Fear of death was illogical. And in that moment, Spock's lust for death was the only comfort he had.  
      Sticky emerald blood had already coated Spock's forearms and was pooling onto the floor surrounding him. He began to hyperventilate, tears bubbling from his eyes and rolling down his cheeks. There was so much blood, far more than Spock could have calculated. Fear and nausea and regret washed over him all at once at the sight of it, all of which were completely illogical reactions.  
      Suddenly, Sarek burst into Spock's room, most likely because of the loud crash that had erupted previously. He froze in the threshold as he was greeted by the sight of Spock; curled up on the floor, sniveling, in a growing pool of his own blood. Sarek moved swiftly; taking Spock into his arms and applying pressure to his wounds as he carried him out of his room. Not a word was exchanged between the two.  Spock felt deeply ashamed. Sarek, of course, was shocked, but strangely not surprised. He had seen the signs of withdrawal in his child, noticed his ever decreasing mood and constant dissatisfaction. In that moment he silently chastised himself for not acting on his suspicions.  
      Once Spock had seen a healer and been successfully stitched up, his parents kept a close eye on him at home. But there wasn't much to watch out for. Spock spent a good portion of his days after the incident simply lying in bed, not having the will or the strength to be productive. His father believed it to be a side effect of the tremendous blood loss, but his mother knew better. She gave her son his space when he needed it, but she was also sure to watch him as closely as she could from now on.  
      Once Spock's strength had fully returned, he continued about his studies as he had before, focusing solely on that and nothing else. Even when the itch of sadness and longing found its way back into his brain, he ignored it. And no longer did he even dare to glance into a mirror.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It'll get happy I sweaR


	3. Earth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spock leaves his home on Vulcan to enroll in Starfleet Academy and crosses paths with a strangely captivating student.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here comes the Spirk, my lads

      Spock had been at Starfleet Academy for a while now. He had grown accustomed to his surroundings and the alien atmosphere. Lost in the chaotic transition from Vulcan to Earth and swallowed whole by new responsibility and stress, Spock quickly forgot everything he had fought for in his adolescence.  
He allowed his sleek ebony hair to grow beyond his shoulders; keeping it in a tight bun most of the time out of necessity. He dressed as he pleased, but then again there wasn't much of a choice with academy uniforms, most of which were very ambiguous. He no longer requested for his peers and superiors to address him as Spock as he once did on Vulcan, for that was a secret he would keep hidden in his past for only him to know.  
      Of course the itch was still present. It was there every time he would be forced to strip naked to bathe himself or change clothing. It was there whenever he happened to glance down at the ugly scars on his forearms. It was there every time he heard his own voice, every time he heard his name, every waking moment of every wretched day on Earth. But he pushed it down.  
      That is, until he met James Tiberius Kirk.  
      Spock vividly remembered the first day he became acquainted with the Terran boy. He remembered seeing his glimmering aquamarine eyes, dancing with a determined sort of mischief. James had cheated. He had disgraced all of his superiors, including Spock himself. It was a terrible sort of loathing that first struck Spock in the pit of his belly. But, over time, out of the swamp of loathing there grew a spark of respect. James Kirk had beaten one of the hardest tests Starfleet had to offer, using his wits alone. He bent the rules, yes, but it was only another cunning strategy, rather than a form of laziness or disrespect. Spock found himself incredibly fascinated with the bubbly golden-haired boy. But the Vulcan kept his distance, knowing full well he couldn't allow himself to form any sort of connection while residing on Earth.  
     

      Spock buried his fists deep into his pockets, keeping them sheltered from the harsh October wind. Though he had been on Earth for quite some time now, Spock was still dreadfully unaccustomed to the uncomfortably crisp climate. He trudged on, winding through the complex streets of the city until he had finally reached the small cafe located a ways outside of campus. Spock preferred coming here rather than the cafe on campus because this way he could more easily avoid his Starfleet peers. He preferred being alone, it helped his state of mind. Not to mention the fact that he couldn't risk forming any close ties with Terrans.  
      Spock ordered his usual large iced black coffee and found a seat somewhere in the corner of the small cafe, keeping his head down as he walked. He sipped slowly and scrolled through his PADD, checking for any missed assignments.  
      "Vanilla bean caramel frappachino with extra whip for...Jim?" the barista's voice rang out crisply.  
      Spock's head snapped up, and suddenly his attention was at the counter; where James Kirk was collecting his drink, flashing a charming smile at the barista. As Kirk turned swiftly to make his way to find a seat, Spock quickly buried his head back into his PADD; hoping he wouldn't call attention to himself. Of course, it was to no avail.  
      "T'Luk!" Kirk's golden voice cut through the soft, peaceful chatter of the cafe.  
      Spock sighed inaudibly and glanced up. Kirk had taken the liberty of sitting down at Spock's table, right across from him. He slurped greedily at his sugary drink, a sly grin plastered to his face.  
      After he swallowed his gracious sip, Kirk asked, "So, what brings you out so far away from campus?" He seemed genuinely interested, but Spock could not be sure. He had never fully grasped the Human concept of sarcasm, so he could be miscalculating.  
      "This particular cafe is not at all that far away from the academy campus," Spock replied briskly, staring down into his drink. "But, to adequately answer your question, I come here to avoid the other students. It is much easier to finish my work this way." Spock then took a chance in looking up at Kirk. He set his PADD down on the table and tucked a loose strand of ebony hair behind his pointed ear.  
      Kirk let out a soft chuckle that for some odd reason made Spock's insides flip. "I suppose that's kinda ironic then. Y'know, with seeing me here. Especially since you kinda hate me and all. I only really come because they have the sugariest drinks in the area. I can't drink coffee unless it's diabetes in a cup."  
      Spock arched an eyebrow and interrupted Kirk's ramblings. "I do not hate you," the Vulcan stated simply, ignoring the rest of his comments.  
      Kirk sported a brief look of disbelief, then responded, "Oh, well I just kinda get that vibe from you, I guess."  
      "If the 'vibe' to which you are referring is the fact that you deliberately cheated on a test that I was supervising and that I had to reprimand you on the matter, then your assumption is completely incorrect," Spock replied matter-of-factly. "At first I did experience some malcontent, but I grew to respect you for the incident. You do show undeniable potential."  
      At that, Kirk grinned; showing off his splendidly white teeth. This particular act made Spock's insides churn even more intensely than before, and he still didn't quite understand why. "So, you like me?" the younger boy asked innocently, but with a slyness in his tone.  
      Spock felt the tips of his ears beginning to burn and he struggled to find the correct response. "I experience no malevolent feelings towards you."  
      Kirk's smile grew wider and he stood suddenly, drink in hand.  "Hey, you're not as uptight as I thought. We should study together some time."  
Yet again, Spock was struggling to find words. "I would find that...pleasing." He glanced back down at into his coffee, which wasn't even more than a fourth of the way finished.  
      "Alright, well, I'll see you around campus! Don't be shy if you run into me!" And with that, James T. Kirk had swiftly exited the cafe; leaving Spock flustered and alone in his corner.


	4. Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim and Spock discuss their newfound relationship, and secrets come to light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Spirking intensifies*

      Spock ran a flat hand over Jim's soothingly smooth chest; entranced. The Vulcan always found himself fixated on his companions's pectorals during their treasured moments of intimacy together. They were currently residing in Jim's dormitory, after a long night of tutoring, among other things. They hadn't actually gotten as far as fully engaging in intercourse yet, but every time they were alone together, things seemed to just get more and more heated. Spock was laying next to Jim, tucked delicately under his boyfriend's muscular arm, his head resting above his heart.  
      Seeing Jim's semi-naked form always twisted Spock's gut in a way that he didn't care to think about. It was a burst of emotion both pleasurable and shameful. Pushing aside his feelings of adoration and lust at the sight, it left him with a feeling almost akin to jealousy. Jealousy at the fact that Spock would never have...that. Even Jim's general physique was ridiculously masculine; so tall and firm. Spock almost couldn't bare to look directly at him, but at the same time he couldn't help himself.  
      Suddenly Jim stirred, letting a gentle sigh escape his lips. He slowly sat up, propping himself up by his elbows so that he was looking down at Spock. He appeared troubled, and Spock's heart began to flutter with concern.  
      "What is it, Jim?" Spock began softly, always being capable of reading his lover's emotions, despite the "lack" of his own.  
      The blue-eyed boy avoided the Vulcan's gaze. He was displaying obvious discomfort. "Well, the thing is, T'luck..." Though he was accustomed to hearing it, the sound of Spock's birth name being spoken by his t'hy'la made Spock's skin crawl. Jim reluctantly continued, "I knew this conversation would come eventually. It's funny that I'm so nervous, I've done this a thousand times before..." he chuckled and trailed off.  
      Spock was now sitting up as well; straddling Jim and gazing down at him. "I do not know what you are referring to," he said matter-of-factly.  
      Jim chuckled again, though Spock did not find humor in the situation. "Yeah I know, just...let me finish." He sighed again, as if trying to ground himself. "Before we, you know, take things to the next step, I've got to...come clean. Most people I've told haven't cared, and I'm lucky for that, but...since you're Vulcan, I don't know how you'll react. I know your logic and everything means a lot to you."  
      Spock interrupted him, "It is illogical for me to love you, and yet here I am."  
      Jim smiled widely, which made Spock's heart flip. "Yes, I know. And I love you too. That's why I don't want to lose you. I guess maybe I'm so nervous to tell you because I've actually become really attached to you, and I want to stay with you. I've never really felt this way about anyone else before."  
      "Me neither," Spock added solemnly. Jim would probably assume it was because he was Vulcan and that love and friendship were foreign concepts to Vulcans. That was partly true, but Spock had only lived such an isolated life because of his peculiarity. No Vulcan dared to be associated with such an illogical and unnatural...thing. But now that Spock had put his chaotic past on Vulcan behind him, and finally forced himself to be feminine in every aspect, he now had a boyfriend. It surely was not a coincidence. If he were ever to truly be himself, he would never be loved. Though Spock knew that Jim did not particularly care about the gender of his sexual and romantic partners, Spock was no real man. He never would be. He would always be stuck somewhere in between, and Jim would never settle for that.  
      Jim closed his eyes briefly, furrowing his brow. He then finally locked eyes with Spock. "The thing is, T'Luk...I'm transgender."  
      Spock squinted down at him; perplexed. "I am not familiar with the term, Jim. There must not be a Vulcan translation."  
      Jim flashed him a cautious grin and muttered, "Of course." He then continued, "You see, when I was born, the doctor assigned me as female, because I had 'female' genitalia. So, my mom raised me as 'Jane'. Of course, she didn't know any better, but it was, well, hellish. But when I got a little older, I came out, and got surgery and permanent hormone implants, not to mention I changed my name to 'James'. The thing is, I haven't been able to afford the bottom surgery yet. It's ok with me, now that the rest of my body is masculine that part doesn't bother me as much. But I just wanted to let you know before we, y'know, did anything. So that you wouldn't be surprised. I've gone without warning people before, and it's ended...badly." Jim paused suddenly. His eyes were haunted. He then continued, "I understand if you don't want to be with me anymore, if I'm not man enough for you. But just know that I really do love you."  
      Spock was suddenly overcome with a wave of emotion more powerful than any he had previously experienced. He nearly forgot the purpose of Jim telling him this. All he could focus on was the fact that there was a word of what Spock was. Transgender. The beautiful and foreign phrase echoed through his mind. Jim was the same as Spock. There was a word for it on Earth. And there was a cure for it on Earth. Here Jim was; born "female", and now "male". Spock was stunned to silence.  
      "T'luck?" Jim's voice was laced with worry. Perhaps he had interpreted Spock's silence as disgust or anger.  
      "I..." Spock breathed, his voice barely audible. "Jim, I..." He struggled to find the correct words to explain himself. But he just couldn't. He suddenly sprang up and hastily made his way out of Jim's dorm. He raced through the halls until he reached his own room.  
      As soon as Spock closed the door to his quarters, tears escaped his eyes. He didn't quite know whether it was because of shock, joy, or frustration, but it was an unexpected and violent display of emotion. He was ashamed. It had been a wise decision to return to his dormitory, otherwise Jim would have had to witness such an event. Finally, Spock forced a sigh from his lips and pulled himself together. Just as he did so, he heard an urgent knock at his door, which startled him nearly half to death. He spun around and cautiously opened the door. He was not surprised to find Jim standing at the threshold, looking extremely concerned.  
      "You're crying," Jim breathed, utterly shocked at this fact, and invited himself into Spock's room. Spock closed the door once Jim had fully made his way inside.  
      "Was crying," Spock corrected, turning away to wipe his eyes again just to be sure he didn't still look like a complete mess.  
      "I'm sorry, I know I'm the reason you were crying," Jim's voice was even quieter. Spock didn't even want to turn and face him. "I should...probably just leave." On that last comment, Jim's voice faltered momentarily. Spock could tell he was near tears.  
      Just as Jim was beginning to make his way back to the door, Spock broke down and cried, "I'm like you!"  
      Jim stopped. Spock turned around to face his gaze. He soon realized he was crying once again.  
      After a long pause, Jim responded softly, "What?"  
      "I am male," Spock whimpered helplessly. "I...I did not know there was a term for it. But...I am like you."  
      Before he knew it, Jim was rushing across the room to embrace Spock. They held each other and wept for a short while, until both of them regained their composures and steadied their emotions. The pair then sat down on Spock's bed, where Spock proceeded to tell Jim his story in its entirety - the side of Spock's life story that only Spock himself truly knew.  
      After he finished speaking, Spock asked almost innocently, "Do...do you wish to remain as my romantic partner?"  
      Jim looked flabbergasted. "Come on, you're a logical man." Spock's heart leapt to his throat when Jim used the term 'man' while referring to him. "Of course I want to stay with you. We're so very different but so much alike. I love you more than anything."  
      "T'hy'la..." Spock whispered as he brushed his fingers against the stubble of Jim's jaw.  
      "What does that mean?" Jim asked in a soft, curious voice as he leaned into Spock's touch.  
      "You," Spock replied simply.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before asking "but why wouldn't Spock have noticed Jim's top surgery scars??" let's just either assume he got keyhole surgery or there's some fancy 23rd century top surgery method that doesn't leave scars alright


	5. Fulfillment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Once on the five-year mission, Spock receives what he has been waiting for his entire life.

      "Are you scared?"  
      If Spock were 100% human, he might have laughed at the doctor's question. Dr. McCoy, on the other hand, did not seem amused.  
      "At the risk of sounding emotional, doctor," Spock began very matter-of-factly. "I have been waiting my entire life to undergo a procedure such as this. Now would not be the time for any sort of illogical fear regarding surgery."  
      McCoy rolled his eyes and began setting out his equipment and arranging it with the help of nurse Chapel. "Well, you're lucky Starfleet is personally covering this procedure for you and I'm the only qualified surgeon on board, otherwise I wouldn't be able to stand any more of your yammering."  
      Spock let a hint of a smirk creep onto his lips. "There are plenty of other qualified surgeons on the Enterprise, Leonard."  
      This comment only infuriated the doctor more. "Yeah, well, I'm the only one who has no chance of messing up and killing you."  
      Just then, footsteps could be heard from the sickbay entrance, along with nurse Chapel's concerned voice. Spock sat up when he suddenly heard Jim's voice. The captain rushed up to his boyfriend's bed, Chapel trailing nervously behind him.  
      "I tried to keep him out, Doctor," she sighed, defeated.  
Bones patted the nurse on her shoulder. "Don't worry, Christine, I believe you," he groaned sympathetically.  
      Jim cupped Spock's face in his hands as if the Vulcan's skin were the most fragile porcelain. Spock closed his eyes and sighed, leaning into the gentle touch.  
      "How are you feeling?" Jim asked softly, voice wavering with nervousness.  
      "Impatient," Spock answered honestly. "Doctor McCoy seems to repeatedly keep getting himself distracted by trivial things."  
      Jim let out a chuckle. "Well, that's Bones for ya."  
      The doctor grumbled something unpleasant as he continued sorting out his tools alongside nurse Chapel. Jim squeezed Spock's hand, which filled the Vulcan with a comforting energy. He sighed once more, this time letting out a longer and slower exhale. His eyes again fluttered shut.  
      Jim became concerned. "You ok?"  
      "Tired," Spock answered simply, unable to form complicated sentences as the anesthesia pumping through his veins finally began to take effect.  
The last thing Spock remembered before drifting into darkness was the soft kiss laid on his cheek and the sound of Jim's voice sending him words of reassurance. 

      As Spock began to awaken, Jim was already at his side, nodding off. Doctor McCoy was pacing anxiously along the side of his bed, while nurse Chapel tended to his various IVs. The room was hazy around him, and the Vulcan blinked furiously, as if attempting to blink the effects of the anesthesia right out of his brain.  
      McCoy was the first to notice his awakening. He straightened up and raised an eyebrow.  
      "Well, look who finally decided to join us!" the doctor greeted, a hint of light playfulness in his voice. "How are you feeling?"  
      Spock was still in the midst of a drug-induced haze, so his only response was, "Blurry."  
      McCoy threw his head back, giggling uncontrollably. "We've finally broken the Vulcan!"  
The doctor's cackling finally woke Jim from his semi-sleep state. He smiled sleepily at his now-awake boyfriend, reaching out and gripping his hand.  
      "You did it," Jim stated, very softly.  
      As the anesthetic began to finally ware off and Spock's mind grew clearer, he realized the true gravity of the situation. He had really made it. Not once would the Vulcan have ever even dreamed of being where he was today, but there he was. A man. An accomplished man, a loved man, a real man. And he finally gazed down at his chest. The once prominent rise of his bosom was but a ghost now. There was nothing.  
      Tears pricked at the corners of Spock's eyes. He looked back up at his t'hy'la and whispered, "I did it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> he Did That

**Author's Note:**

> This story means a lot to me as a gay trans man, so if you have anything transphobic to say, please keep it to yourself!  
> (Also sorry for the super short chapters rip)


End file.
